Oath of Honor Read online

  down to business.

  “Good. That’s really the last of the formal security items.” She

  shrugged. “Protocol only. Your record has already been reviewed.”

  Wes said nothing. She wouldn’t be sitting there if her service

  record and probably everything that came in her life before that hadn’t

  already been scrutinized in intimate detail. Pro forma.

  “Have any questions?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Lucinda smiled. “I am not in the military, so you can dispense with

  the formalities. And feel free to speak. None of this is on the record.”

  “May I ask how I came to be considered for the position?”

  “Of course.” Lucinda gestured to a coffee urn and a row of plain

  white mugs sitting on a linen-draped sideboard. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  While Lucinda poured, she talked. “Obviously, Dr.

  O’Shaughnessy’s death was unexpected. The position is a critical

  one, and with POTUS about to embark on a series of national and

  international movements, we need the White House Medical Unit to

  be at full staff.”

  “I understand.” Wes waited for the rest of the story. The White

  House medical staff usually came from the military, and there were

  plenty of military physicians available. But she’d been short-listed. Not

  just short-listed but fast-tracked.

  Lucinda handed her a cup of coffee and angled the adjacent chair

  to face Wes. When she sat, their knees were a few inches apart. “As you

  can imagine,” Lucinda said calmly, “an election year is a volatile time

  for the nation and disruptive to both parties. Emotions run high.”

  “If there’s something I need to know about the president’s health,

  I assume it will be in his records, but if not, then I need to know…off

  the record.”

  Lucinda’s eyes glinted as if she was pleased with Wes’s statement.

  • 62 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  “This isn’t television. There’s nothing we’re hiding about the president’s

  health. He has some food allergies which you will note in his chart,

  an old ligamentous injury to his right knee, and some annoying, but

  I’m told not dangerous, floaters in his right eye. Other than that, he is

  remarkably fit and healthy.”

  “Excellent. I will be reviewing his records today.”

  “We have excellent security,” Lucinda went on, “and the president

  and I have total faith in his detail. In an election year, we always see an

  escalation in death threats.”

  Wes nodded. “I’ll need to know the nature of the threats, the

  analysis of the threat level, and what the Secret Service containment

  policies are.”

  “You see,” Lucinda said, smiling more broadly now, “you’ve

  just proved my point. We need someone in charge who knows how to

  approach these kinds of issues in a scientific fashion.”

  “Any physician should be able—”

  “But not with the facility of someone whose job it has been to

  set up treatment, triage, and interventional protocols under battlefield

  conditions. That is a fairly unique skill.”

  “Do you expect an attack on POTUS?”

  Lucinda sipped her coffee and finally said softly, “It isn’t a question

  of if the president will be attacked, but when. That is the presumption

  we all work under, Captain Masters. As long as we believe that, we will

  be prepared for anything.”

  “I understand.” Wes decided to push her luck. “And the current

  staff? Isn’t it customary to advance members from within?”

  Lucinda shrugged. “There is nothing customary in the White

  House, Captain. The guard changes every four to eight years, and many

  of the personnel change at the same time. The rules, if there are any,

  are almost totally dependent upon who occupies these rooms.” Lucinda

  regarded her for a long moment, and Wes sat under her dissecting gaze

  calmly. “The White House Military Office is your counterpart, and they

  felt no internal candidate was qualified for the unique demands of this

  position at this point in time.”

  “I can assure you, Ms. Washburn,” Wes said, “I am prepared.”

  “I’m very, very glad to hear that.” Lucinda set her cup aside, and

  her expression took on the kind of intense focus Wes recognized from

  the field when an engagement was imminent.

  • 63 •

  RADCLY fFE

  Lucinda Washburn was about to tell her the real reason she’d been

  hired. Everything else was reasonable, but that about-to-do-battle glint

  in Lucinda’s eyes said there was more.

  “Need-to-know, Captain,” Lucinda said softly.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We have a security breach, as yet unidentified, but we suspect

  the individual has intimate access to the president. You’ll be with those

  closest to him every day.”

  “I’m not a security agent, I’m a doctor.”

  Lucinda smiled. “And as such, a trained observer.”

  Wes asked, “Who are the likely suspects?”

  Lucinda drew a long breath and listed the limited pool of individuals

  with close, continuous access to the president. Evyn Daniels was one

  of them. Wes thought back to the hours they’d spent together the night

  before. If she’d had this information then, maybe she wouldn’t have

  suggested dinner, even though she couldn’t imagine Evyn betraying her

  country. But then, she didn’t really know her at all. All she had to go on

  were nebulous feelings, and feelings had no place in her job.

  “I’ll be read in on any security updates?” Wes asked.

  “Yes—need-to-know.” Lucinda stood, indicating the interview

  was over. “Questions?”

  “No, ma’am. I do have a request.”

  “Go ahead,” Lucinda said, a note of curiosity in her tone.

  “I’d like to see the autopsy file on Dr. O’Shaughnessy.”

  Lucinda’s jaw tightened. “You’ll have that today, Captain. As soon

  as the last of the paperwork is completed.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lucinda Washburn leaned across her desk and pushed a button on

  her phone. A voice came over the speaker. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Would you please let the agents know Captain Masters is

  ready?”

  “Certainly.”

  Lucinda turned. “We’ll get the polygraph out of the way, and that

  should be the end of the formalities.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Wes rose. “As I said, I’ll be reviewing the president’s

  chart today. I would like to examine him at his earliest convenience.”

  “Really?” Lucinda studied her. “Why? Everything is in his

  records.”

  • 64 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  “That may be, but if I’m going to be his doctor, I need to perform

  a baseline physical examination and make my own assessment.”

  “You don’t trust your predecessor?”

  “I don’t know him,” Wes said. “But in any case, I wouldn’t presume

  to take care of someone I had never examined. It’s not good medicine.”

  She hesitated, seeing the consternation in Lucinda Washburn’s eyes.

  She imagined the president was incredibly busy, an
d finding time to

  meet with her would probably be incredibly inconvenient. “In my

  experience, high-profile patients often get poor care. Physicians and

  everyone else involved are reluctant to inconvenience them. Things

  get overlooked. That’s not fair to any patient, but it certainly is not

  appropriate for the president of the United States. In light of everything

  you’ve told me, it’s imperative I judge his status for myself.”

  “I understand. I’ll see that it’s scheduled as soon as possible.”

  Lucinda extended her hand and Wes took it. “Welcome to the House,

  Captain.”

  • 65 •

  RADCLY fFE

  chapter eight

  Evyn hadn’t slept much in the last few days, and she needed a

  coffee refill to keep her focused during the routine after-review

  of the wedding detail and the rest of the uneventful morning briefing.

  Trying not to look distracted, she sloshed milk into her Starbucks

  venti cup, added the always-good coffee the valets kept fresh in their

  command center, and settled back at the conference table with the other

  members of the day shift. She wasn’t herself and couldn’t figure out

  what was off. Usually a brisk shower, a fast fantasy, and a hard orgasm

  cleared her head for the day, but this morning, she’d opened her eyes

  and immediately replayed the evening with Wes—and the details that

  came to mind had nothing to do with the job. She kept stumbling over

  the way Wes concentrated on her when they talked, as if they had all

  night, the way Wes smiled at something Evyn said, her eyes glowing.

  And her mouth—God, she had a killer mouth—full lips, broad smile, a

  tiny lift on the right side that gave her a hot, sexy, rakish look. Evyn’s

  stomach tightened into a hard knot and a quick pulse beat between her

  thighs. She sucked in a breath. Whoa. Bad timing—where was that rush

  two hours ago when she could have taken care of it? She slugged her

  coffee, burned her tongue, and choked.

  When she looked over, Gary was staring at her with laughter in

  his eyes. She tossed him a get bent look, and he smothered a grin. He

  always claimed he could read her mind, but she assured him he was

  wrong, remarking if he could, he’d be walking around with a perpetual

  boner and he should be so lucky.

  Agents rose and started to leave the room, the midnight shift

  • 66 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  heading home and the rest to their posts. Evyn grabbed her black trench

  coat and coffee.

  “Evyn,” Tom Turner said. “Hang on a minute, will you.”

  “Sure.” Evyn dropped her coat onto a chair and tossed the empty

  paper cup into a nearby wastebasket. Gary hesitated, glanced at Tom,

  and followed the rest out, muttering, “Catch you later,” as he left.

  When the room was empty, Tom closed the door and gestured for

  her to sit.

  Her antennae went up. She couldn’t think of anything she’d done

  that could be problematic. She wasn’t the most senior member of PPD,

  but over the last year she’d sort of become Tom’s unofficial sounding

  board. She’d sat in the right front seat of the follow-up car a time

  or two, and had taken the lead when POTUS traveled. That level of

  responsibility told her she was doing okay, or at least she thought she

  had been. She waited for Tom to start, banishing a mild case of nerves,

  a wholly atypical reaction for her.

  “Are you set to bring Masters up to speed?” Tom sat across from

  her and leaned back in his chair.

  “She’s still clearing security but should be done sometime today.

  I’ll meet with her later and set up a schedule.” Evyn’s pulse jittered at

  the mention of Wes’s name, also unusual. She rarely showed a bump in

  her blood pressure or her pulse, even during simulated actions. She’d

  been preparing for this job since she was a kid, and she’d taught herself

  not to react when something hurt, or scared her, or excited her. She kept

  her cool. She wanted to be ice in an emergency. She usually was. But

  just a reference to Wes Masters had her composure melting around the

  edges. That couldn’t be good. She needed to clamp a lid on that.

  “I had a call from Averill Jensen before the briefing this morning,”

  Tom said.

  Evyn tensed at the mention of the president’s security adviser.

  The USSS answered only to the Director of Homeland Security—on

  paper—but Jensen had sweeping authority in security matters. “About

  We—Captain Masters?”

  “Indirectly.”

  Evyn couldn’t believe there was an issue with Wes Masters. She’d

  only just met Wes, but she’d spent time with her, more personal time

  than she’d spent with anyone in years, except the agents who’d just left

  • 67 •

  RADCLY fFE

  this room. And they hadn’t just talked about business. They’d talked

  about life. Wes was solid. She was dedicated and focused, all the way

  through. Evyn clamped her molars together and kept her mouth shut.

  She needed to listen, and to do her job. Right now, the best thing she

  could do for Wes Masters was find out what the hell was going on.

  “They went outside to bring her in,” Tom said, “and on the face of

  it, that’s not that unusual. What’s unusual is that with O’Shaughnessy’s

  sudden death, they didn’t move someone up from inside as interim

  director while they put the nominees through the selection process.”

  “I know.” Just a few hours with Wes had blunted some of Evyn’s

  anger that Peter had been passed over, but she still didn’t think it was

  right. Wes wasn’t at fault for that, at least not as far as she knew. “Did

  somebody pull strings to get her appointed? Pressure someone? Is that

  it?” “No.” Tom’s smooth brow wrinkled, which for him was akin to

  shouting. He was the epitome of control. He just didn’t get rattled,

  especially if he was angry or frustrated. Something serious was going

  on if Tom was unsettled. “Masters was brought in because she’s a

  qualified outsider. There seems to be some concern that we have a leak

  inside.”

  “A leak?” Evyn took a second to let that sink in. “You mean

  someone in the House is passing information?”

  “Communications analysts have been pulling snippets from

  surveillance tapes—routine Internet sweeps—that suggest potentially

  hostile groups might know plans we haven’t made public.”

  “Jesus,” Evyn said. “And they think it’s in the medical unit?”

  “They don’t know—could be anywhere—the medical unit, the

  West Wing, our group—”

  “Us? Oh, come on, that’s just not possible. At the very least,

  someone is talking who shouldn’t be because they’re damn idiots—

  which excludes all of us. Worst-case scenario, someone is working with

  domestic or foreign hostiles. And that sure as hell isn’t one of us.”

  Tom stared at her. “You believe it and I believe it, but that doesn’t

  mean everyone else does. Let’s not forget Robert Hanssen. He went

  undetected for decades.”

  “We’re not the FBI,” E
vyn said dismissively. You believe it and I

  believe it… “Wait a minute. You’re not saying that Wes—Dr. Masters

  is looking at us?” Was that what prompted the dinner invitation and the

  • 68 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  prolonged after-dinner conversation? She remembered every word that

  had passed between them, and she couldn’t remember Wes bringing

  up anything probative. All the same, the invitation had come out of

  nowhere. Her heart plummeted. “Hell.”

  “I doubt that—not her job description. All the same, we can’t really

  be sure what we haven’t been told.” He grimaced, clearly not happy.

  “Given the threat level, Masters has to be aware of the situation.”

  “Well, we better be sure she’s ready to carry the ball,” Evyn said.

  “That’s your job. In the meantime, we need to button down

  everything on our end. I want you to watch communications carefully.

  Make sure our analysts are looking for anything, no matter how small,

  that gets picked up from sources under surveillance.”

  She nodded sharply. “You got it.”

  “She’s due for a polygraph. Pick her up and take her over. Sit in

  on it.”“I’m not certified—”

  “I know—Preston will run it. You can play backup.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And for now, all of this is just between us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Evyn said softly. She didn’t want to believe that anyone

  inside the White House could be compromising the president by

  inadvertently mishandling information. But to do it willfully? To her,

  there was no greater sin. Wes couldn’t think her capable of that, could

  she?

  v

  Wes left Lucinda’s office and walked out into the waiting area.

  Evyn Daniels stood with a stone-faced man in a dark suit who regarded

  her with unsmiling eyes. Wes looked at Evyn. “Good morning, Agent

  Daniels.”

  “Captain,” Evyn said politely, nothing but professional friendliness

  in her eyes. “This is Agent Preston.”

  Wes quickly squelched a wave of disappointment at the formal

  tone. Business as usual. Last night was a thing of the past, and after

  what Lucinda had just told her, business as usual was all there could be

  for her with anyone on the job. She wasn’t here to make friends. She

  nodded to Preston. “You’ll be doing the testing?”

  • 69 •

  RADCLY fFE

  “That’s right,” Preston said. “If you come this way, we’ll tell you